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MY THAXKHUVIXS.
BYS. J. RUSK.
f>Mr Ix>rd, while many happy heart
rtlow* with Thanksgiving's joy to-night.
And glad, unbroken families
Are gathered round the fireside bright,
While pongs of praise ascend frcra those
IV h * thy full harvests stand amid;
1 thank Thee for the ripened grain
•vfthiu the heavenly storehouse hid.
I hank Thee Uut for long, long years,
> tie shut wiiaiu it 4 pearly gate,
My tarling has een aept for me,
And still I stand without and wait.
I thank Thee for the memory
<>f every loviug word and tore
Uf voice, that never failed to take
A tenderer cadence for his own.
I I hank Thee that the golden streets
By the dear, faithful feet are pressed ;
1 thank Thee that the aching head
Is pillowed on the Savior’s breast.
I t hark Thee that the loving heart
Has done with earth-born joy and pain!
I thank Thee that no bitter teara
Shall ever dim those eyes again.
I thank Thee for the blow that left
The spirit bruised, the household maimed ;
i thank I'nee for the love that lent,
I thank Thee for the love that claimed.
I thank Thee that each passing year
But brings me nearer to my bomv,
Where with the Spirit and the Bride,
He waits me with the whispered “ Come.”
A TALE OF NINE SEEDS.
Nine brown seeds lay wrapped in the
heart of a red apple. Eight of them
were large, full seeds: but one was
dwarled and insignificant.
“Alas!” sighed the little seed, “I’m
not fit to be called a seed.”
“Thou canst count thyself one!” said
h large wed. “ The greatest in the earth
can do no more.”
" I call this a jolly world!” cried Mas
ter Tom, as he loosened the small silk
handkerchief under his broad collar.
“ Don’t you, Posv?” he added, pulling
bis cousin’s black dress. Posy’s blue
eyes filled with tears. She could remem
ber when her own dear papa and mamma
came with the rest to spend Thanksgiv
ing at grandpa’s. Now they would
never come again. And brother John
had written he would try to got there,
but the dinner was well begun and he
had not come. She thought of him, so
far away. He was not her own brother; i
but she knew no other. How often, after ,
she began to wear the little black dresses, ;
he told her of the time when her lather j
had found him alone in the world, cared i
for by no one, and had taken him home !
and made him his son. Her mothei’s
last words were: “ John will take care of
you, Posy.” “Dear John,” thought
Posy, “ perhaps now he is hard at work,
having no turkey, no pudding, nor nuts,
nor apples.”
The delicate bits that grandpa had
heaped upon her plate had been taken
away, scarcely tasted. She knew she
ought not make them all sorry when this
was Thanksgiving; but when Tom, from
behind his small tower of turkey and
chicken-bones, pronounced this “ a jolly
world ” it started the too-willing tears.
“ Mamma,” said Tom, waving a drum
stick at his mother, “hasn’t Cousin John
got a pretty loDg nose ?”
“ Pretty long,” said his mother.
“There, Posy,” said he, still gesticu
lating with his drumstick, “of course he
will smell his jolly dinner and come for
it.”
Pesy laughed with tears in her eyes.
“ Any way, it is mean in you to make
us unhappy on Thanksgiving day. Don’t
you think so, boys?” Without looking
at the young gentlemen addressed, Tom
my passed- his plate to his grandfather,
with an “ All around again, if you please,
sir.” If Posy’s tears had roused any sor
row in his little heart, it vanished with
the return of his well filled plate; for he
declared, as he received it with greater
emphasis than before, “that it was a
jolly world.”
The dinner was nearly over. Great
gobblers, that had strutted nobly in their
day, and gentle turkey matrons, that
had not always meekly followed after;
black hens and white, yellow chickens
and gray; pies without number and
puddings worthy of the day; apples,
sweetmeats, nuts and raisins—all had
contributed toward makiDg a merry day.
A weary satisfaction seemed to rest on
every youthful face except Posy’s and
Tom’s.
“ Mamma,” said Tom, placing one fat
hand on the lower buttons of his jacket,
“ I always told you that these clothes
didn’t fit me.”
Po3y, raising herlittle hand over the
table(now stripped of its most substantial
glories), said, earnestly: “ I would rather
not have tasted one bit of turkey, not
seen any chicken pie, nor pudding, nor
anything that has gone; I would rather
now take all these apples, ngs, nuts, and
throw them into the pig-pen, and see my
brother John 1”
“He’Jl come to-morrow,” said Tommy,
languidly. “ Perhaps if ne had come to
day he would have made himself sick.”
“Ofcourse he would!” said big Cousin
Billy, who was picking out nuts for Tom
my’s pretty sister, Dora. “How much
better for him to get here strong and well
to-morrow or next day and help ns to
take care of Tommy.”
Deeper grew the shadows around the
old farm house. Softly the darkless
covered oneobject after another from
Posy’s hopeful eyes. I shall leave the
curtain up, she thought, as she turned
from the window, so John can see in as
he comes up the hill.
•‘Name mine! and name mine!” she
heard the merry voices of her cousins,
boys and girls, some so much older than
she. Why should she alone be unhappy?
As she was leaving the window a large
red apple fell at her feet.
“ Why didn’t you catch it?” asked
Tommy.
“ I didn’t see it in time,” said Posy.
“ Thank you Tom; but I don’t want it.”
“You must have it,” said Tommy.
“ I have named it for you.”
“I don’t want to play,” said Posy.
“ I can’t tell you who I named,” said
Tommy, mysteriously, but it is some
body—a little too old for you, perhaps
—but somebody vou want to see aw
fully.”
“ Eight they both love,” lauahed
Billy.
“ Who did you name it?” asked Dora.
Billy whispered in her ear.
“O you horrid thing!” cried Dora.
“ You know I don’t like him.”
“ Pon my word, I thought that you
thought that he was splended,” said
Billy, still grinning.
• Nine he comes, in mine," said an
other great boy.
“ Nine she comes,” said Dora.
THE ELLIJAY COURIER.
VOLUME 111.
“Nine he comes,” repeated Posy to
herself. “ Oh! if my apple would only
have nine seeds,” she said to Tommy.
“ We’ll make it have nine,” said the
valiant Tommy. “ But you must eat it
yourself you know.”
She held up the great apple. “Oh!
: it will take so long! Won’t you help
me?”
Tommy laid one hand on his heart, to
prove his willingness to save her; the
1 other tar below it, to suggest his iuabil
-1 ity.
“ I know it is mean to ask you,” said
| Posy, touched by his gesture and expres
sion, for he said nothing. “ I suppose it
wouldn’t do to cut it and take out the
seeds?”
“ That would not be fair,” said Tom
my, seriously. “I’ll try to hetwyou a
little.”
In spite of his modesty, he proved a
great assistance and the apple soon dis
appeared and they were looking for the
seeds.
“ One I love,” said Tommy, placing a
seed in Posy’s little hand. “ Two I
love,” giving her another. “ Three I
love, I say. Four I love with all my
heart, and—and five I cast away.”
“I should feel dreadfully if there were
only five,” said Posy, anxiously.
“ Six he loves,” said Tommy, solemn
ly. “Seven she loves, eight they both
love—and that’s all!”
“ O Tommy! only one more,” said
Posy, beseechingly, as if her fate rested
wholly with him.
“Je-rusalem the Golden! Nine he
comes!” cried Tommy, placing carefully
in her hand the least mite of a seed.
“Is it too small to count ?” asked
Posy, with great concern.
“ Notning is too small to count,” said
Tommy, sternly.
The little seed almost jumped for joy
in Posy’s hand.
“ Ah ! the little feller just saved us,”
said Tommy, counting the nine seeds.
“ You believe now he will come, don’t
you, Posy ?”
“I know he will come now,” said
Posy; and, as if her faith had brought
it, at that moment a youthful, sunburnt
face pressed itself against the window
and smiled kindly at the little figure in
black
“ There is a tramp outside, who says
he has had no dinner to-day,” said
grandpa, coming in and looking' straight
at Posy.
“It is John!” cried Posy, seeing the
twinkle in his merry old eyes.
“ Nine he comes!” shouted Tommy, as
Cousin John came in.
“ Here is what brought you, John,”
said Posy, showing the nine seeds. “ I
shall always keep them.”
As John sat down to dinner alone,
Posy said: “ O dear! if I had been sure
you would come, John, I think I could
have eaten more dinner.” Grandma
took the htnt and put on another plate.
“ I know I 6buld I” said Tommy,
meekly; and on went a third plate,
amid shouts and groans.
Nine brown seeds lay in a paper box,
on a bit of white cotton. Eight were
full and large, but one was very small.
—Sargent Flint.
SITTIMi BULL
Telia All He Knows About Ute Canter
ItlttMurre.
Hitting Bull has been talking with a
correspondent and telling the story of
the Custer massacre. He says the fight
was “ hell with a thousand devils. The
squaws were like flying-birds: the bullets
like humming-bees. We thought we were
whipped, not at first, but by and by;
afterward, no. Your people were killed ;
I tell no lies about dead men. These men
who came with the Long-Hair were as
good men as ever fought. WheD they
rode up their horses were tired, and they
werg tired. When they got off their
horses they could not stand firmly on
their feet; they swayed to and fro—so
my young men have told me—like the
limbs of the cypress in a great wind. Some
of them staggered under the weight of
their guns, but they began to fight at
once ; but by this time our camps were
aroused and there were plenty of warriors
to meet them. They fired with needle
guns, and we replied with magazine-guns
—repeating rifles.” Sitting Bull illus
trated, by putting his palms together
with rapidity, of the fusilade. “Our
young men rained lead across the river
and drove the white braves back, and
then they rushed across themselves, and
they found that they had a good deal to
do. The trouble with the "soldiers was
that they were so exhausted, and their
horses bothered them so much that thoy
could not take good aim. Some of their
horses broke away from them, and left
them to stand ana drop and die. All the
men fell back fighting and dropping.
They could not fire fast enough, though
they kept in pretty good order. They
would fall hack across acoulie, and make
a fresh stand beyond, on higher ground.
There were a great many brave men in
that fight, and from time to time, while
it was going on they were shot down like
pigs. They could not help themselves.
One by one the officers fell. Where the
last fight took place, where the last stand
was made, the Long-Hair stood like a
sheaf of corn with all the cars fallen off
him.” “Not wounded?” “No.” “How
many stood by him ? ” “A few.” “ When
did he fall ? ” “ He killed a man. When
he fell he laughed.’' “You mean he
cried out?” “No; he laughed. He had
fired his last shot.” “ From a carbine ? ”
“ No; a pistol.” “ Did he stand up after
he first fell ? ” “ He rose up on his hands
and tried another shot, hut his pistol
i would not go off.” “ Was anv one else
standing up when he fell down ? ” “ ODe
| man was kneeling, that was all; but he
died before the Long-Hair.”
Sitting Bui! says there were only
squaws, old men and little children in
front of General Reno, keeping him in
his strong position on the bluff, and pre
venting him giving aid to Custer.
Reminiscence of Jackson.
Speaking of General Jackson, I heard
the other day an anecdote of him at the
time when, as military commander in
Florida, during the administration of
President Monroe, he had tried at a
drum-head court martial, sentenced and
hung two Englishmen, who had incited,
it was said, an insurrection among the
Indians. President Monroe feared that
Great Britian would make trouble about
this; and summoned his bold brigadier
to this city, where he wa- arranged at a
" Error Ceases to be Dangerous When Benson is Left Free to Combat It.”—Jefferson.
ELUJAY, GEORGIA, DECEMBER U. 1877.
meeting of the cabinet. John Quincy
Adams, then secretary of state, who had
instructed Jackson to govern with a firm
hand in Florida, defended him, and read
a lone argument in which he quoted
international law as expounded by Gro
tius, Vattel and Putt'endorfT. Jackson
listened in sullen silence, but that even
ing, when asked at a dinner party wheth
er he was not comforted by Mr. Adams’
citation of authorities, he exclaimed;
“ What do I care about those old musty
chaps ? Blast Grotius, blast Vattel and
blast the Puffen-chap. This is a fight
between Jim Monroe and me, and I pro
pose to fight in out.” Old Hickory
cared little abor t arguments and author
ities, and he believed tl\at “ to the victors
belong the spoils.— Washington Cor. oj (he
Bottom Jemmml.
Controllng the Waters of the Mis
sissippi by Outlets.
The immense value of the alluvial
lands of the Mississippi, and the inability
of the states in which they lie to protect
them from overflow, will probably cause
congress to take some action upon this
subject at an early day. These lands are
wonderfully fertile and of great extent,
and when once made secure, their taxable
value and productiveness will be im
mensely increased.
Two plans for the reclamation of these
lands are now defined before the coun
try. One is known as that of the United
States engineers. This plan is explained
in the report of a commission authorized
by congress in 1874, of which Gen. G. K.
Warren was president and Gen. Abbott
a member. The report is unanimous,
and is further strengthened by the full
endorsement of Gen. A. A. Humphreys,
chief of engineers of the army. Capt.
Eads’ plan is the very opposite of the
United States engineers, and is based on
theories so directly contrary to theirs,
that one or the other party must be
greatly in error.
The plan of the commission may be
said to rest upon the correctness of what
is known as the “ Outlet system,” which
is explained in its report in the following
words: “ The plan consists in abstract
ing from the river and conducting by
separate channels to the gulf such a
volume of the flood discharge as shall be
sufficient to bring down the flood level to
a height easily under control by levees.”
The commission does not, however, pro
pose to make any new outlets but says
They are correct in theory, but no ad
vantageous sites for their construction
exist.” It accordingly recommends the
keeping open of all existing outlets, and
especially Bayou Atchafalaya, which now
not only discharges nearly all the waters
of Red river, but a large portion of the
flood waters of the Mississippi. The
commission recommends repairing the
defective levees ;-the closure of the cre
vasses, and the completion of the entire
levee system from (Jape Girardeau, Mo.,
to the lower epd of the river, and the
extension of the levees up the mouths of
the tributaries and down the bayous far
enough to guard against backwater.
The commission assumes that the re
tention of all the flood waters between
the levees when the crevasses are closed,
will increase the height of the water,
and thus require the levees to be built
much higher and stronger than the pres
ent ones. It says: “11 we guard against
the crevasses by raising and strengthen
ing our levees, an elevation of the high
water mark, exactly proportioned to the
increased volume, will be sure to occur.
To contain a quart of water, a vessel
must have exactly the requisite number
of cubic inches, and a like principle ap
plies with equal force to water in
motion.” To meet this increased eleva
tion of the high water mark, it declares
that it will be necessary to build up the
entire system from three to eleven feet
higher than the great flood of 1858.
Seven hundred miles of the levees must
be from ten to eleven feet nigher than
that flood. The cost of t is entire sys
tem of work is estimated by the commis
sion at $46,000,600.
The 5,000 Lakes or Minnesota.
I have caused the meandered lakes in
all the township plata to be counted, and
there are in the actually surveyed por
tions of the state just 4,999 meandered
lakes. Calling them 5,000 in number,
and, from reliable data in this office, we
find that these lakes average 300 acres
each; this gives us an equivalent on
1,500,000 acres of water in the surveyed
portions of the state. Now, computing
the lakes in the unsurveyed portions of
the state from reliable data in possession
of this office, we find that there are 2,000
more lakes, which wake 7,000 in all.
The number of lakes to a town is much
greater in the nnsurveyed portions of the
state than in that already surveyed.
They are found also to average greater
areas. We find we are compelled to esti
mate the 2,000 lakes in the unsurveved
portion at GOO acres each, which gives us
an additional water area of 1,200,000
acres, making a total of water area on the
surveyed lands of 2,700,000 acres of
water within the limits of the state.
This does not embrace the vast water
areas included within the projected
boundary lines o i the state in Lake Su
perior and Lake of the Woods, and along
the great water stretches of the interna
tional line— Gen. James H. Baker.
He Wrote It Down.
The proprietor of an office on Gris
wold street was yesterday approached by
an embarrassed and annoyed citizen, who
asked:
“ It isn’t in your line, I know, but can
you tell me who discovered America?”
“ Why, Christopher Columbus, of
course,” was the answer.
“ That’s the chap ; that’s the identical
man,” continued the other. “ I’ve been
trying for more than four houis to re
member the name, but I couldn’t fetch
it. I could get Christopher Cooper, and
Christopher Cumback, and Christopher
Collins, but I couldn’t think of Christo
pher Columbus. I’ll write it down on
the spot. Over on Lamed street this
morning I got into a political discussion
with an insurance man, and he wrenched
me all to pieces just because I couldn’t
think of Christopher Columbus’ name
when I wanted to. Do you spell it Co’
or ‘ Ko ?’ ” —Detroit Free Press.
Note pinned to a deserted Pittsburgh
baby: “Treat me well, for I have no
father or mother, Boil the milk well
befone giving it to the boy.”
RELIGIOUS READING.
The Rumple.
Hippy slang llfl's wemry ways
thickest with uncongenial task*,
Some OTerveighled toller stays
Hu hind from labor, while bp sake:
Wherefore shall I these burtons bear
That others ought, at least, to share?
“ 1. since the day'Anarch was but n.
Hare spent my strength nor turned aside
From any service to be done, *t
Her trudged my pleasures sell-denied ;
Yea, I hare eeen counted gala,
For the world's sake, my loss itf pain.
“ But now my soul Is ru'd: fcwwby
Should duty law for these
Who with arerted looks rasa byX
Or ait with loldcd hands at
Why should I suffer more than Bjy
The h<at and burden of the ,di|H
How many a spirit fretted
With tha world'a
Has turned eunta que-Hona o'fl£aiS! awiy ‘
Still haunted with thercsthSl tense
Of doubt, and wondering distrust ;
Would those things bo if Uod’wcre juat?
Ah, mo! the waya of God with men
No mao that lives cat find them out;
Who grasps at things beyond His keu,
Is tossed oil shoreless seas a Lett,,
Yet, in the thickest of the aight
For eyes that see there shall hr light.
What tlmewenurao ottr discontent
Rather, instead, should we recall.
How once in servants' guise He went
Who was the Master of us all -,
Nor any work whereby was waausht
The Farther’a will, too irksome thought.
Need any bo dirqtneted
Whose hearts this memory inclose?—
Who follows where ti e Lord haa led,
What matter la It where ho goes ?
For working with Him. Ride by side,
The meanest life is glorified.
—Marti B. Bradley.
The Root of Riches.
U nused instruments grow rusty. And
rusting is chemically a slow but sure
form of burning. It eats in deeper and
deeper until the instrument is damaged
or the metal consumed.
Riches are an implement; they are the
means of applying and ati'lizing power.
Rightly used, they are Westings. Mis
used, they are deadly instruments of
destruction. Unused, they are rusting
tools, doing good to none, and testifying
against the indolence, or incapacity, or
selfish churlishness or miser’iness of the
owner.
A little wealth, rightly used, is more
of a blessing to humanity than vast
riches unused. A single homelv plow,
kept bright by making many furrows,
is better than a great steam gang-plow
rusting in idleness. A “ nimble six
pence.” kept shining by constant circu
lation, is better than the “ slow shilling”
that gathers black rust in the miser’s
strong box.
But there is this strange peculiarity
about the rust of riches: It not only
frets and blackens the gold and silver
with stealthy corrosion or slow dimming
before the unsatisfied eyes of the selfish
holders, but the slow-burning rust has,
figuratively, a inyster/'its power of
transferrusß itee*;', to tlicf*. "w'Lt-.are„cil 1-,
pably responsible for Its gythermg there;
and it shall also be a sharp accusing wit
ness against their distrust of Goa and
their cold unlovingness toward man.
St. James says. “ Your gold and silver is
cankered; and the rust of them shall l>e
a witness against you, and shall eat your
fieshias if 4 were fire.”
Strange words, too little thought upon,
but full of deep and terrible significance.
Hands that might have been beautiful
and clean through timely gifts, wise pro
duction and bountiful expenditure,"are
now blackened and foul with the tor
menting, slow-eating rust of the riches
they loved too well. An eternity of re
morseful wringing of those hands will
not remove the fast-cleaving canker, but
only serve to set it deeper in. And the
slow-devouring heat of the rust of riches
no tears can quench.
Therefore it were well to give earnest,
timely heed to the inspired injunction :
“ Charge them that are rich in this world
that they be not high-minded, nor trust
in uncertain riches, hut in the living
God, who giveth us richly all things to
enjoy ; that they do good, that they be
rich in good works, ready to distribute,
willing to communicate; laying up for
themselves a good foundation against the
time to come, that they may lay hold on
eternal life.”— Western CiristiandAvocate.
Mrs Willard and the Temperance
Movement.
At a recent meeting in Chicago, of
the woman’s social science association,
Miss Frances E. Willard made the fol
lowing explanations ri ferenc3 to certain
statements published m certain papers :
“ And just here let ne aay (for my
position on this subject bas been griev
ously misunderstood! tlat I think we
mistake God's proviaeme whenever we
undertake to limit the Women’s tem
perance movement by any denomina
tional lines whatever. The crusade, out
of which our work hasgiown, insisted on
no shibboleth. It welcomed to its ranks
any person of reputable life who chose
to come into a work whose basis was
prayer, the Bible and'the temperance
pledge. While lam not here to make
any specific allusion, inifie way of denial,
to any statements that may have ap
peared, I am here to affirm that, were
all the circumstances known, out of
which these statement grew, I should
be abundantly from accusa
tions of intolerance, sectarianism and
bigotry; most assured 1 / from the charge
of injustice toward my noble and gifted
friend, Mary A. Livermore, president of
the Woman’s temperaace union of Massa
chusetts.”
Chrlalian Auhmd
It is a good thing far society that the
popular conception of manhood is so
nigh ; that the" very Words “ manhood ”
and “ manliness ” Biggest to the aver
age mind an elevatioi of sentiment and
principle, a degree f generosity, cour
age aud fidelity which renders a man
incapable Of anything low and mean
and dishonorable. But the thought
for present c-mpeasb is that there is a
still higher manhood, which not only in
volves all that is good in the popular con
ception, but all tha: is contained in the
Scripture ideal of human excellence.
That idea is desigmted by Christian
manhood, implying that by imitating
him the idea may be attained and real
ized in our own characters. Hence it is
said that Christ has left “ us an example
that we should foljew in his footsteps.”
Henc?, also,the commands, “ Follow me,”
and “ Let this mind le in you which was
also in Christ Jesus.”
The true and only adequate standard
of manhood is likeness to Christ, the
model man of the race. The best and
highest style of man is he who is the beet
Christian, whose character is most nearly
fashioned altar that of Christ. Any con
ception of manhood that does not include
this is defective. Even the popular and
excellent proverb. “ An honest man is
the noblest work of God,” cann-t be true
unless the word “ honest ’’ is made to in
clude all that is implied in the word
“Christian.” To be strictly and uni
versally true, it should be, ‘ A Christian
is the noblest work of God.” —The Meth
odist.
A TALE OF TO-DAY.
BY IjITPPLE YARROW.
11 wav night.
It might have been summer time, or
early caudle-light, bad it not been in a
romance.
It was also a drug store, and a clerk.
He was known as I’aul Plump. Which j
was his name.
It was not P. H. Plump. Heroes I
never have initials. The scene of this
story is laid out in November—well on
into the center of it.
So Paul went to the door, and looked
out upon the bleak November sky.
Which is to say, he would have looked
u[k> i it, had it not been too dark. He
looked up that way anyhow.
Then he drew a long breath.
He also drew out a lengthy sigh, and
exclaimed:
“ Pll do it I”
If you could have heard the voice in
which those words were uttered, you
would not have required him to intro
duce further evidence that he would do
it.
He went back into the store, and
locked the doors and windows.
Then he deliberately took down from
the shelf a bottle filled with a certain
dark liquid.
_- After which he climbed the stairs to his
little bedroom He went and lit him a
light, and B.ood before the mirror, and
looked wistfully upon the image which it
reflected.
His features were very pallid, but they
were resolutely and firmly set, especially
the bottom part of them.
The light of a fixed purpose burned
steadily in bis eyee (blue).
He said once mere:
“Pll do it!”
Then, wiih steady hand, he raised the
bottle of dark liquid. He emptied a )tor
tion of its contents into his hands, rubbed
them together, and applied the palms
thereof to the capillary covering of his
head (hair). After which he did various
other tilings, and exclaimed once more :
“ Pll do it! ”
* # • * # * *
it was also night. The same one.
[This is an inside.]
Two parties, male and female, were
sitting on ono sofo.
This sofa was designed for that number
of parties; but to-night there are, acci
dentally, on one end of it, nine volumes
of patent-office reports.
Consequently the reports are somewhat
crowded for sitting-room.
The occupants of the other end of the
sofa are Paul Plump and Miss Mora Mc-
Minnywink,
Paul is saying: “ Mias Mora, pardon
mv boldness, but I must speak. Jxrng
ago you must have guessed the great
feelings which—which I feel for yon.
Oh ! can not you return them—some of
them, at least ? I—l love you—l do 1 ”
“ Paul,” she answers softly, but firmly,
“ Paul, you must not talk so ! Forget
it, I pray you ! We are both poor, and
have no fine house, nor pretty furniture,
nor sweet carriages, nor good things to
eat, and—and—all that. Forgive me,
Paul, but 1 must have all those when
I marry; and you can not furnish them.”
“ Yes, I forgive you ! Fact was, I
I was under a false impression. I— ev—
thought you could supply all them ’ere
things!"
Ideals.
Every man ha* his ideal of some sort;
some goal toward which he is pressing.
There is a farther shore of human desire
and effort. To some it lies among the
pleasures or riches of the world ; to
others in the direction of mere worldly
wisdom; to still others it may ba that just
visible line of perfect being, where the
soul in the exercise of all its powers shall
give praise in its every moment. This
impulse, which lies hurried in human
nature, does not always result in pro
gress, either for the individual or for
society, owing to the perverted judg
ments and depraved tastes by which it
is often iniscredited. We are all filled
with a restless energy which is pressing
us forward toward something beyond.
Well it will be for us if that something
be true; lofty, spiritual. If any man is
satisfied with present attainment, with
what he is or what he has accomplished,
he is blind to his own defects, and has
lost the ambition of life. Kip* fruit is
garnered, or falls to the ground and
perishes. This is the law of nature.
The shock of corn that is matured, God
garners. Continued life gives room for
continued advance and service.— l’rtt.
Jiobbme.
Putting Children to Bed.
Not with a report for any of that day’s
sins of ommission or commission.
any other time but bedtime for that. If
you ever heard a little creature sighing
and sobbing in its sleep you should never
do this. Seal their closing eyelids with
a kiss and a blessing. The time will
come all too soon when they will lay
their heads upon their pillows lacking
both. Let them then at least have this
sweet memory of a happy childhood, ot
which no future sorrow or trouble can
rob them. Give them their rosy youth.
Nor n*d this involve wild license.' The
judicious parent will not so mistake my
meaning. If you have ever met the man
or woman whose eyes have suddenly
filled when a little child has crept trust
ingly to its mother's breas', you may
have seen one in whose childhood’s home,
Dignity and [Severity stood where Love
and Pity should have been. Too much
indulgence has ruined thousands of chil
dren ; too much love, not one.
At the recent baby show in Boston the
nearest approach t<> the line between
babyhood and nothingness was exempli
fied in an in.'ant which weighed only a
pound and a half. This infantile prodigy
was exhibited by a Acton mother,
and when it squalls she has to spank it
with a tack hammer.
NUMBER 2.
CONDENSED NOVEL: OCR TWINS.
Alller Ikr Frrmrmt Horrerj AM) le of LI
eralare.
CHAPTER I.
The first cries of the twins—W-a a-s!
Wa-a-a-a! Wa-a a-a!
CHAPTER 11.
Topey to his maiden aunt Molluskia—
Aunty, what for oo never dot married 1
Mollusk—Little boys must be seen but
not heard ? ( Aside) Brat I
Wopsy—Aunty, wot for oo never dot
married ?
Mollusk—Shut up! (Aside) Another
brat!
CHAPTER 111.
l’opey—Mother, may I go out ?
j Maternal—Yes, dear.
CHAPTER IV.
The children were all now assembled
in a group around the organ-grinder.
The orgain-grinder ground. The monkey
in its red coat and tail was Popsy’s es
pecial delight. But little Wopsy’s more
sensitive and delicate nature teemed
more powe.lully impessed by the music.
The ergan grinder’s organ, owing to
some temporary defect of the internal
mechanism, was then turning out “ Home
Sweet Home ” mingled with “ The Last
Rose of Summer.” Little Wopsy stole
tenderly to her father’a side, and, im
printing on his cheek a darker shade,
caught from the stick of lioorice she had
been sucking, asked : “ Papa, do dey
have so much music as dat in heaven ?’’
“ I hope not, my dear,” said he. Then
turning aside to conceal his emotion he
rushed from the house and wept.
CHAPTER v.
Pillbiter was hastily summoned to lit
tle Wopsy’s bedside. As he stood anx
iously watching the flushed cheeks of the
little' darling the door creaked dismally
on its binges, a heavy step was heard, and
the form of the maiden aunt commenced
worming its way through the outer
passages into the room, She started on
seeing Pillbiter. Pillbiter started also
Both started. “ Pillbiter,” said the M.
A., “you have wronged me; wronged
me cruelly! You might have married
me once. You could as well have mar
ried me as any other woman.”
“Too true, too true,” he groaned.
“Give the child ext. tinct. myrre two
gr., nux vomica three dr. Oh ! Mollus
kia! Molluakia! Every word you say
pierces my soul like the gripe of cholera
infantum! There’s nothing the matter
with the brat but green apples; but say.
may not the past be atoned for ? May I
not say to you now, my Molluskia, those
too long neglected words ? May we not
be happy yet ? ”
“ We might Pillbiter, we miuht," said
the M. A.
“ Molluskia, excuse me for one moment
whilo I go for my pills.”
“I wUI.”
-O*. Joseph BUlbiter rushed from the
house and took the next train for New
York. He was never seen again in
Morbusviile. Above the clatter and
clang of the flying cars, as they thundered
down the valley of the Ipecac, ros* the
voice of Pillbiter, exclaiming: “ Not
any of that maiden aunt for Joseph Pill
biter!”—A. Y. Graphic.
Opium Inebriety.
At the eighth annual meeting, which
was lately held in Chicago, of the
American association for the cure of
inebriates, an interesting paper by Dr.
J. B. Mattcson of Brooklyn,* was read
on “ The Responsibility of the Produc
tion of Opium Inebriety.” The writer
sets forth that within the last two or
three decades, the consumption of opium
has increased far in advance of its direct
curative need. The preponderance of
testimony was that its use was eften
entered upon unconsciously, and con
tinued until it became aphysica] necessity
The writer held that
of the cases ot inebriety in this country
may be traced te opiate prescriptions,
which physicians are too ready to
prescribe for the relief of pain or sleep
lessness. This ought to be avoided,
especially with patients of a nervous
temperament. Another physician con
sidered that the origin of the habit was
often more accidental than otherwise. Dr.
Widney said that during the war, when
opium was very scarce, he had known
persons who had been in the habit of
using it who turned their attention to
alcohol as a substitute. He said that in
one case a woman who had been in the
habit ot taking as high as twenty grains
of morphine a day, drank a’ great
quantity of whisky without becoming
intoxicated. Persons could use alcohol
for a longer time than they could opium
without becoming dependent upon it.
The president of the association. Dr. T.
Mason, of Brooklyn, N. Y., said the im
portations of opium were largely in
creasing, and he held the druggist most
culpable.
The Silver Dollar.
As the remonetization of the silver dol
lar in some form is attracting so large a
share of public attention, it will be of
interest to know just what the silver
coinage of tne country has been and now
is. The first silver dollar under the law
of 1792 weighed 416 grains 892 4-10 fine,
and parts in same proportion. Weight
of SIOOO, 8663 ounces.
In January, 1887, the law was so
changed that the silver dollar weighed
4121 grains 900 fine, and parts in same
proportion. Weight ol SIOOO, 850jj
ounces. This is the dollar that was drop
ped from our coinage m 1868, because it
had practically been out of circulation
for twenty years or more and is the dol
lar which it is now proposed to adopt,
both as to weight and fineness
In March, 1853. a law was passed
which did not touch the silver dollar
iteelf, but reduced the weight of the half
dollar and smaller silver to proportionate
parts of 384 grains 900 fine to the dollar;
SIOOO of these coins weighed 800 ounces.
The law of February 12, 1873, estab
lished the weight of the halfdollar,
quarter, dimes and half-dimea at 385.8
grains 900 fine; SIOOO of these coins
weigh-808J ounces. These are the coins
now issued, and are in general circula
tion. They are a legal tender to the
amount of $5 in any one payment. The
trade dollar was authorized in 1878, to
weigh 420 grains 900 fine, and this is a
legal tender to the amount of $5 only in
one payment; SIOOO of these coins weigh
875 ounces.
ritll AMI PANTIES.
Am* Trt.
Too would IKS think hr chenks wan MowaiM
No IIM ot twirls ksr bmminz .mil*diarlnM;
No clfltntp perfumes iround h. r hover ;
And jnt 1 lore her I
She rirsls not the sun in dsuliat hrifhrnsas:
She steps not like the fiwa withJslrjr IWUitaetn;
Her eyes resemble hot the stars shore her:
And ret I lore her'
No wiring trsssw IsU in rich profusion ;
No classic torui, half bidden by illusion—
No brlUlaot Itney coaid 1 o'er dimmer;
Asa yet I lore her!
Tor she Is truly sensible and good ;
And all the charms that tasks true w aaabood
Unite In her; and she lores toe moreover:
And so I loro her I
Besides that, she’s my taarrer,
[-.Peei, il’m. Cullen Unahßmt.
'• w hy,” asked Pat, one dar, “ why
was Balaam a first-class astronomer r’
The other man gave it op, of course.
“ Hhure. ” said Pat, “ ’twaa because be
had no trouble in finding u w to
roid. ”
A young lady, in conversing with •
gentleman, spoke of having resided in St.
Louis. “ Was St. Louis your native
place?” asked the gentleman. “Well,
yea, part of the time,” responded thn
lady.
Will the capitalists and manufactur
| era listen to the demand that is rising up
in one long, irrepressible wail all over
! free America, for a cheap grade of Christ
mas presents, adapted to the wants of
young men on salaries.— Hawkey c.
The paragrapbero’ association is greater
than the telegraph, greater than the tele
phone. Through its delicate, intricate
process a paragrapher can sit in his room
in New York ana scratch the back of s
paragraher in New Orleans.— Courier-
Journal.
“ I was born in Bath,” said a dirty
looking customer, as l)e harangued a
; crowd at a political meeting, “ ana I love
my native place, “ You don’t look aa if
you had ever been there since,” said one
ot bis hearers, aa be proceeded to laud an
opposition candidate.
For a congress that was convened
expressly to consider appropriations for
the army, the present one isn’t, strictly
speaking, a success. It reminds us of the
Georgia camp-meeting where the mem
bers assembled to glorify God, and then
went to picking huckleberries.
Wife: “Well. Jones, judging from
your breath, I can’t really tell whether
you have been drinking whisky, or
whether you have been swimming in it.”
Husband (reproachfully): “Hannah,
don’t you—hie— love me enough to
gimme—hie—the benefit of the doubt V’
General Bherman’h official salary,
it is stated, amounts to about SIB,OOO a
year, inclusive of the usual commutation
for supplies. He lives at present at the
Ebbitt house, in Washington. He is
said to enjoy Washington gayeties
greatly, and we feel aggrieved when
! there is not —to use his own words—
“ some sort of a fandango every evening.’
—Ntw York Tribune.
Literary young man at a party;
I “ Miss Jones have you seen Crabbe’a
] Tales TANARUS” Young lady, scornfully, “ I
I was not aware that crabi had tails. ”
Liteiary young man, covered with con
fusion : “ I beg your pardon, ma’am ; I
should have said, read Grabbe’s Tales ?”
Young lady, angrily-scornful: “ And I
was not aware that red crabs had tails
either.’ Exit young man.
Two friends, just married, were dis
cussing rapturously, as they congratula
ted each other, the merits and charms of
their sprtnsfs. One said: “My wife
has got the loveliest head of hair f eve;
saw, even on the hair renovator labels.
When she lets her hair down the ends
fall to the floor.” “ That’s nothing,”
I replied the other; “when my wife lets
i her hair down it ail falls to the floor.”
The trade-mark treaty between the
United States and Great Britain providee
that the subjects of citizens of each
country have the same rights as the sub
jects or citizens of the other, or ss are
now or may hereafter be granted to the
subjects or citizens of the most favorable
nation, in everything relating to the
trade-marks and trade-labels upon fulfill
ing the formalities required by the laws
of their respective countries.
Some years after the discovery of gold
in Australia a mint was established, and
much of the raw gold, instead of being
sent to Great Britaio, was coined into
sovereigns in the new colonv. The peo
ple there for a long time looked upon
these locally-coined sovereigns with dis
trust and disfavor, they clamored for the
English sovereign, and were ready to pay
a premium for it. And yet all the while
it was an absolute fact that the Aus
tralian sovereign contained more gold,
and of a higher , standard, than did the
English.
A kind-hearted elephant, while walk
ing through the jungle where the spiev
breezes blow soft o’er Ceylon’s Isle, heed
lessly set foot upon a partridge, which
she crushed to death within a tew inches
of the nest containing its callow breed.
“ Poor little things !” said the generous
mammoth. “ I have been a mother my
self, and my affection shall atone for the
fatal consequences of my neglect.” So
saying, she'sat down upon the orphaned
birds. Moral.—The above teaches us
what borne is without a mother; also
that it is not every person who should be
entrusted with the care of an orphan
asylum.—A. Y. World.
A Mexican Funeral.
Frank C. Van Tassell, formerly secre
tary of Ringgold hoee company, this city,
is now in Mexico, at work in the Dolores
silver mine, Vallacillo, nt fur from Hie
Texan frontier. Mr. Henry McCann,
foreman of Ringgold house, has receiver!
a letter from Frank, in which the latu r
says: “There was a boy killed here Wt
Tuesday morning, by falling down the
mine shaft, and I attended his funeral
Tuesday night. I will try and give you
; a description of a Mexican funeral.
They always have their funerals at night.
After we arrived at the house a Mexican
gave each one of us Americans a wx
candle, about eighteen inches long, with
a spravot artificial flowerstwined around
it. Then we went in and looked at the
corpse. They had him laid out on a
table. There was a crown on his head,
covered with gilt paper, and sandals „n
his feet, covered with the same. He was
wrapped in a long robe, of a yellow color,
trimmed with b.ue. He was not put in
a coffin until they arrived at the grave
yard, but wss carried through the streets,
just as he was when ljine on the table.
As the funeral procession "moved along,
guns and pistols and a kind of candle,
very much like the Reman candle, were
fired off. It seemed to me more like one
of oar fitemanic receptions than like a
funeral. After we arrived at the grave
yard, and the body was put in the coffiu
and lowered in the grave, every one made
a rush for a handful of dirt and threw it
on the coffin. Those who had founds
buried there took what was left of H eir
candles and stood them upon their graves.
That finished the funeral. There was no
religious ceremony, as the priest was
awuy.” —Newbury Journal.
